


Burn Bright

by the_obiwan_for_me



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Anger, Coping, Destruction of Alderaan (Star Wars), Grief/Mourning, Post-Star Wars: A New Hope, Reflection, We're going to pretend like I understand how astronomy works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:40:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27138119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_obiwan_for_me/pseuds/the_obiwan_for_me
Summary: Leia takes a moment to herself to reflect on her loss after the destruction of the Death Star.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Burn Bright

**Author's Note:**

> Taking a brief moment away from my comfort characters in "She Said the Word" to write a little something in honor of our Space Mom's birthday today. Carrie Fisher brought Leia to life, and, I am forever grateful to her for that (among many other things). Without the OG badassery of Leia Organa we would not have the likes of Padme, Ahsoka, Satine, Bo-Katan, Rey, and all the other powerful, strong, amazing women that fill that galaxy far, far away.

The air of Yavin IV was still oppressive, even this late into the night. Or this early in the morning. Leia wasn't really sure which was more accurate at this point. But, on the far end of the landing field, just at the edge of the jungle, at least it was quiet.

The celebrating was still in full swing, and Leia figured that was only right. What they had done this day was….well, it had been impossible. How this tiny little cobbled together fleet had blown up a planet destroying super weapon still eluded her to a degree. Sure, she'd been in the war room. She'd watched the whole thing in real time, stood in disbelief as Luke had turned off his targeting computer and somehow, some impossible, incredible way, had hit the tiny target and destroyed the world wrecker.

Leia stretched out on her back in the grass, unconcerned for the preservation of her white dress. Her whole body ached, as if she was coming down with a particularly nasty flu. She knew, medically, it was the effects of the interrogation droid. She had been briefed on what to expect from those damn things when she had finally convinced her father to let her fully participate in the Rebellion. Some medic had given her a fist full of anti-inflammatories when she had arrived on the base, but that had been ages ago, and she probably should find someone sober enough to get into the med stores and get her some more.

Though she intellectualized the bone deep ache came from the drugs and bolts of electricity and just sheer terror of being tortured, Leia's poetic side- if she had such a thing- felt maybe it was also from the incredible, unimaginable, mind bending loss she had endured. How could watching your entire homeworld get blown back into its original star dust  _ not  _ cause massive physical pain?

She had been mentally preparing herself for the loss of one or both of her parents for several years. Since she'd first discovered their ties to the Rebellion. She was always waiting for the news that her father had been found out and executed on the spot. Or that both her parents had been arrested, hauled off to some godforsaken place, never to be seen or heard from again. Losing family was a fact of life when one went up against the Empire.

She had not been prepared to lose literally everything.

She still waited on the tears. She kept expecting any moment that her wrecked body would shake and fall apart with sobs so powerful, the very heart of the Empire would feel them. They had still yet to come. But she wasn't numb. No, she burned. She burned with a white hot anger that eclipsed even the blinding light of Alderaan's explosion.

Her father, had he been here, would tell her to be mindful of her feelings, particularly of her anger, as he had done many times in her life. He would quote one of those mythical Jedi he claimed to be friends with before the Emperor had snuffed them all out. Say something about anger leading to hatred. But was it really wrong to be angry at  _ this?  _ To hate it?

It wasn't even an anger over losing her parents. The hottest, brightest flame of anger that burned in her chest was for the unthinkable injustice of so many innocents being punished for something they had no part in. She was angry over her parents, certainly, but, again, losing them, or them losing her, was a near inevitable conclusion. That the Empire would be so cruel, so callous, so inexplicably evil to just wipe out everyone- infants to grandparents- just because a certain prisoner came from a certain planet, well, it burned her from the inside out.

Even now, if she closed her eyes, the blinding light of Alderaan's destruction burst to life in the dark space behind her eyelids. She could almost swear she could hear the millions and millions of souls call out to her before they blinked out of existence. Calling to her to remember them. So, she just didn't close her eyes.

Instead, she searched for Alderaan's star, a habit she'd taken up as a child, whenever she would travel from home with one or both of her parents. It was second nature for her now to look up what quadrant she could expect to find that star, which is what she had done without a thought shortly after landing on Yavin IV. She scanned the correct quadrant and found it, barely visible, being so deep in the Outer Rim, with the bright, omnipresent light of the gas giant, Yavin, hanging in this sky. But it was there. 

She knew that if she looked through the right telescopes on the right planets, she would see the bright blue light of Alderaan itself. A funny, cruel and beautiful trick of light. Alderaan would be visible, if you looked hard enough, from every planet in the galaxy possibly for millions of years.

Maybe she did have a poetic side, after all, because how poetic was it that the light of Alderaan would outlast the Empire? Even if this little rebellion failed, one day, this Empire would die, but Alderaan would still burn bright in every sky.

Just like it would burn bright in her heart until her very last breath.

"Leia?"

She sat up and turned to see Luke walking toward her. 

"Hi Luke," she said quietly.

His desert blonde hair took on an ethereal glow in the light of Yavin, giving him a bit of an avenging angel sort of look as he walked out of the darkness. She figured he would have been completely smashed, considering the last time she'd seen him, he and Han were dancing together like a couple of idiots. But now, she realized, he'd obviously not been celebrating nearly as hard as she assumed.

Which made sense. Like her, he'd lost his home, his family, and a mentor in far too short a time frame. 

"Are you ok?" he asked, sitting down next to her.

"I...uh...I just needed some time to myself," she said, not really answering his question.

He moved to get up. "Oh, ok."

"No, stay," she said, laying a hand on his arm.

He settled back down, quiet and thoughtful like her. 

Though they'd known each other a ridiculously short amount of time, she already felt him to be a kindred spirit. He tempered her in a way, and she liked the calming effect he had on her, especially in this moment.

"What are you doing?" Luke asked after a few quiet moments. 

She gestured toward the sky. "Looking at Alderaan."

"Oh," he said with quiet reverence. "Which one?"

Leia guided him to find the faint white-blue pinpoint that was Alderaan's star. He smiled sadly when he found it, glancing at her briefly before turning his gaze back to the star.

They laid back, side by side, arms crossed behind their heads. Nothing needed to be said, so they didn't fill the oppressive air with pointless words. And they watched Alderaan's light burn bright.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Carrie. We miss you.


End file.
